^GPanic on the streets of ^EmLondon ^GPanic on the streets of ^EmBirmingham I ^Cwonder to ^Dmyself

^GCould life ever be ^Emsame again On the ^GLeeds side streets that you ^Emslip down I ^Cwonder to ^Dmyself

^GHope's may rise under ^EmGrasmeres ^GBut honeypie, you're not ^Emsafe here So you run ^Cdown To the safety of the ^Dtown.

But there's panic on the streets of Carlisle, Dublin, Dundee, Humberside I wonder to myself.

^GBurn down the ^Emdisco, ^GHang the blessed ^EmD.J., Because the ^Cmusic that they constantly ^Dplay, It says nothing to me about my life,

Hang the blessed D.J., Because the music that they constantly play, On the Leeds side streets that you slip down, On the provincial towns you jog round,

Hang the ^CD.J., hang the D.J., hang the ^DD.J. Hang the ^CD.J., hang the D.J., hang the ^DD.J. Hang the ^CD.J., hang the D.J., hang the ^DD.J. Hang the ^GD.J., hang the ^EmD.J. Hang the ^GD.J., hang the ^EmD.J. Hang the ^CD.J., hang the D.J., hang the ^DD.J. Hang the ^GD.J., hang the ^EmD.J.

The Smiths - Panic